The Well
by england-has-swag
Summary: Alfred, a well known writer, stumbles a little to far into the woods one night. Warnings: Gore, if you could call it that. Happy early Halloween.


After a stressful day at work, one of Alfred's favorite things to do was walk through the garden in his backyard. He made sure to keep it looking well. He could have hired gardeners, but he enjoyed taking care of it himself. It gave him something to do on weekends, and when he wasn't busy with writing.

His large manor stretched out across a small portion of country land. It was a result of the many novels he'd written. It was a little easier working from home. Though, it didn't give him many opportunities to make friends, and he often got lonely without any company. He had family, of course, but they lived too far away for regular visits.

Today, he'd just finished off a novel, and figured it would be nice to take a few days off for that accomplishment. He was deciding this as he slowly strolled through his garden, admiring the beauty of the scene. The sun was about to set, and it's orange light reflected off of white roses, marigolds, and many of the other flowers his small sanctuary held.

Alfred wore his usual attire… A clean, sleek black suit that he wore most evenings. He'd decided once he bought the manor that he might as well look as professional as the large house in case there was a chance that company was coming over. He didn't like to disappoint. Usually, when he was writing, he was changed out of this outfit, into something slightly more casual, with his study door locked. He didn't need any distractions as he worked.

Either way, here he was now, smiling softly as he wandered through his sanctuary that he had spent so much time on. It was enclosed by a short chain-link fence in an attempt to keep most small animals out. He didn't want anything making a snack of his precious flowers and bushes. Though, there was a gate in the back leading out to the forest behind his house. He would sometimes stroll through the paths when he tired of his garden, but had never ventured too far.

Although he didn't seem too unamused by his garden today, he choose to go past the gate today. He really shouldn't… The sun was setting, and it would be dark rather soon. The woods was so close to his house, though. What was there to lose?

He walked on the small dirt path, admiring the different foliage and wildlife, for what seemed like only a few minutes. He saw some movement behind the trees. It looked as if it was more of a human figure than an animal, from the slight bit that he saw out of the corner of his eye. …maybe someone had gotten lost. Considering it was Alfred's property, he felt like if there was someone who'd lost their way, it was his job to help them out of the woods. "Hello?" he called out cautiously.

Laughter only answered him in response. It was a voice that sounded as musical and light as a bell. Maybe it had been a young woman, or a small child. It would be getting dark soon, though. He couldn't afford having anybody get hurt on his property. Morally, anyway.

He stepped forward towards the noise, which wasn't an easy feat, considering the soft laughter had echoed through the space that he occupied. He saw more movement at his own. A flash of hair, and a white dress. It darted through the trees away from him, the laughter sounding out once again. He was quick to follow after the mysterious figure.

It wasn't very easy to run in a suit, and he mentally scolded himself for making chase in it as branches smacked against the fabric, tearing it in certain places, and staining it with dirt in others. His shoes were already getting muddy, as were the bottom of his pant legs, but now that he'd gone this far, it was a little late to turn back.

Every time he wanted to stop running, another flash of the figure, or another almost-human sound pushed him to continue running. When he came to a clearing, he finally stopped. He put his hands on his knees, his breath coming out in deep pants as he tried to make his lungs stop burning. He was sweating, even though it had cooled outside with the setting sun. It was dark now. He regretted this. Without looking around, he already knew he was lost. He'd ran for too long, and strayed too far off the path not to be.

When Alfred finally looked up, he spotted something a little unusual. It was what looked to be an old well. He cautiously approached it, slightly afraid that the ground near it might not be stable. On further inspection, it was covered in moss and vines… The ground seemed to be fine. It was a water well with a rope for a small bucket for collecting water and a crank on the side. What seemed to use to hold the bucket was now a frizzled, and moldy end to a broken rope. It must've deteriorated enough for the rope to snap long ago. It made him wonder how old this well really was. He hadn't been informed on the past history of the land he was using. It only peaked his curiosity in it, actually. It was strange that the well seemed to lie in the middle of the forest.

At first, Alfred thought that he was hearing things. Then, the sound became distinct. More clear. It was the sound of a woman crying. His eyes widened. He looked around for a moment before realizing that the sound was echoing from /inside the well./ He looked down into it, leaning slightly. "Hello?" he called. "…is anyone down there…?" With his voice, the noise immediately stopped.

He felt warm breath on his ear.

Slowly, his face pale, he turned to look to his side, only to be face to face with the most terrifying thing he'd ever seen in his life. It seemed to have once been a woman, distinguishable by the tattered, dirty dress that hung from it's boney frame. A few strands of hair hung from it's skull that was almost completely clear of skin. White bone gleamed in the moonlight. One eye socket was dark, and empty, and the other had the rotting, dripping flesh of what once might have been an eye. Although the skull didn't have much skin, it had enough around the jaw for Alfred to realize that it was smiling wickedly. It's nose was gone, and maggots crawled all over the figure, flies buzzing around overhead, and creeping through the woman's dead face. It smelled of death.

Alfred felt the presence of hands on his back and neck. From the one around the back of his neck, he could feel bone sticking into his skin in places where the fingers must have lacked skin. His voice was caught in his throat, but his face was pale, and his eyes wide.

"Happy Halloween," the figure whispered, then shoved the man head first into the deep, dark well. Alfred was never seen or heard from again. On some nights, you can hear the scream of a man echoing through the woods. The scream the American was never able to choke out.


End file.
